"Talia! We have to get out of here!" Father’s voice thundered.

  The sound nearly drove Iris to madness. She had never heard him speak like that before.

  Today was the strangest day of her life. Iris returned from her walk, as she always did, only to find a thick, gray mist blanketing the entire village, blocking the sunlight from breaking through.

  The moment Father saw her, he pulled her inside, then shouted at Mother in words she could only partly make out.

  "They know Amiri's here! They're coming!"

  Iris’s blood ran cold, her limbs going limp.

  In the blink of an eye, a man in a black cloak appeared.

  Father swung his sword once. The man went down instantly.

  The metallic scent of blood filled the air.

  "Iris! Get upstairs, now!"

  Father bolted the door firmly, then led her into the master bedroom.

  Mother stood with her eyes closed, gripping a dark, twisted staff. The gem atop it glowed with a soft, pearlescent light.

  Nine-pointed stars covered the floor, encircled by two concentric rings.

  A bright light sprang up around the rings, unfurling like a spiral of pristine white waves.

  BANG! BANG! The hinges screamed. The door exploded into splinters.

  Heavy footsteps slammed up the stairs, shadows writhing along the walls. Something was looming closer.

  “I won’t go anywhere… not without Amy.”

  Iris sobbed, her voice faltering through her tears.

  Father dropped to his knees, gripping her shoulders tight.

  His hands were ice-cold, and the girl’s heart pounded so hard it felt ready to burst.

  “Amiri will find us. I promise.” There was steel in his voice and in his eyes.

  “All right! Let’s go!” Mother turned back with a faint smile tugging at her lips.

  A soft white radiance burst through the room, so bright it swallowed everything from sight.

  Iris tried to speak, but her lips trembled too hard to form a sound.

  Mother slowly lifted her face, fixing her gaze on the door as if she already knew he had arrived…

  “Elwine!” The voice was so cold it chilled to the bone.

  WHOOSH! Black flames roared to life, devouring everything until nothing remained but ash.

  The stench of burning filled her nose.

  Iris’s ears rang, then everything went silent.

  CREAK…! CREAK! The spiral wave was splitting apart, the white light slowly dissolved into emptiness.

  The girl’s heart beat one last time before darkness claimed everything.

  Amiri opened his eyes. His body was bound in coarse linen, each breath sending sharp pain through him. The chill from the window reminded him that he was still alive.

  The fire crackled, and the smell of smoke filled the room with warmth, yet the wooden chair by the bed sat empty.

  Too empty… as if someone had just vanished.

  The young man pushed himself up.

  “Hey! Don’t get up yet, you’re still sore,” a deep voice warned.

  He froze and turned toward the speaker.

  “You are…?”

  “I’m Theo. You saved Alice, didn’t you?”

  “How did you know?” Amiri asked, surprised.

  “Alice told me—” Theo’s eyes swept across the room.

  “But… where is she now? I saw her just last night.”

  Amiri offered a faint smile, his eyes tinged with sadness.

  “So she’ll be going back to her family… in Lunacia, then.”

  Theo narrowed his eyes, his voice taking on a sharper edge.

  “Alice doesn’t have any family here.”

  Amiri flinched, drawing a deep breath, his heart pounding as he tried to piece everything together in his mind.

  “Mr. Theo,” he said, urgency creeping into his voice.

  Amiri forced himself to stand.

  “I need to get home—now.”

  The shadow of night crept slowly. The wind whistled like anguished screams, rippling through the air. Across the charcoal sky, the crescent moon had turned blood-red, and the scent of iron hung thickly in the air.

  Once a little music box, Ariawood had fallen silent.

  "Our man isn’t here," a voice said.

  "He must have been," the mysterious man replied, stepping out of the house.

  Amiri panted, pushing himself as fast as he could, one hand pressed against a wound that hadn’t fully healed.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  The ashen leaves shifted slowly, and raindrops fell in a gentle drizzle. Instead of feeling refreshed, a shiver ran down his spine.

  Amiri swallowed hard, glancing at the pile of ashes, unsure whose house it had been.

  Memories surged back, as vivid as if they had happened just yesterday, with birthday gifts from Uncle Taylor, breakfasts from Aunt Lily, and the laughter of Erik.

  Guilt, despair, fear, and unanswered questions crashed over him all at once.

  Amiri clenched his teeth, every step a throb of pain.

  Please… Father! Mother! Iris!

  A young woman appeared.

  “You’re late, Alicia.”

  “My apologies, Sir Galhart,” she said, bowing her head.

  “I waited outside, but there was no sign of him.”

  A dozen or more figures in black cloaks stood in formation under the pouring rain.

  “All of them… taken care of?” Sir Galhart’s voice boomed.

  Lightning flashed, revealing a pair of piercing azure eyes.

  “All done, sir,” one of the men replied.

  “Then let’s head back.” Sir Galhart cast a sideways glance at Alicia.

  “He knows… we’re coming here.”

  Amiri was breathing hard, his body drenched.

  The heart of the village lay in ruins, with nothing left behind.

  The air was thick with the stench of ash, great trees splintered and broken, smoke veiling everything.

  The lake that once shimmered clear now lay black and lifeless.

  His legs trembled beyond his control, and he dared not utter a sound, not even to glance at the roadside again. He fought to hold back his tears.

  At last, Amiri made it back… only to freeze at the sight of figures lurking in the shadows.

  A gust of wind tore back someone’s hood, revealing honey-blonde hair streaming in the air and eyes the color of amber.

  Alice?!

  Amiri caught her gaze for but a heartbeat.

  She whispered something he could not hear.

  Smoke rose, blinding his sight, and in the blink of an eye… they were gone.

  The soft blue blooms Mother had planted…

  She once told Amiri they held memories and a love that would never fade.

  But… those flowers lay trampled and ruined.

  Amiri ran with all his might, stepping over the body of a man sprawled in a pool of blood without a second thought.

  He slipped through the doorway…

  “Amiri, have you ever played Gistol?”

  The boy shook his head.

  Father set an old wooden box down on the dining table.

  “It’s a card game that relies on positioning, and decision-making.”

  “Would you like to give it a try?”

  Amiri nodded eagerly.

  “Each player gets two cards, then you combine them with the five on the board.”

  “The highest hand wins.”

  Amiri’s face twisted in confusion, his eyes swimming.

  “And then—”

  “Colm, right?” the little girl piped up, coloring on her paper and swinging her legs back and forth.

  “Wow, Iris! You know Faelan Colm too!” Father’s voice was filled with surprise.

  “I read about him in a book,” the girl said, beaming.

  “If you win without revealing your hand, you can raise the stakes, up to double, as many as three times.”

  “The way Colm plays… he can turn nearly everything lost into a mansion in a single night.”

  “On the other hand, the winner of each hand can also choose to halve the stakes each time.”

  It wasn’t long before the card game slowly unfolded.

  Amiri’s hand trembled as he held his cards.

  “You’ve got nothing, you’re going to lose for sure!” Iris teased, giggling.

  “Loser does the dishes,” Father said with a straight face.

  But it was clear… he was barely holding back a smile.

  Amiri puffed out his cheeks… and everyone at the table burst into laughter.

  The scene before him was nothing but ashes, tearing the memories in his mind to pieces. The sunlight that once bathed the room now gave way to creeping shadows. Floors and walls were blackened, and the windowpanes lay shattered into fragments.

  The young man collapsed to his knees in despair.

  “Father! Mother! Iris!” Amiri shouted over and over, his voice fraying with panic.

  He climbed the crumbling stairs, heading straight for the locked room.

  Knock Knock Knock!

  The young man rose from his bed and opened the door.

  The little girl stepped into the room, her hands clasped behind her back.

  “Father said… this winter would be colder than ever.”

  “So I went to pick out scarves with Mother.”

  Iris held out a bright red scarf, her smile shining.

  Amiri wasn’t particularly fond of red, but if his little sister picked it, he loved it all the same.

  “Your birthday’s coming up, so I…” He gave a faint smile and reached for a black ribbon.

  Neither too large nor too small, unassuming yet graceful.

  “Turn around, I’ll tie it for you.”

  The little girl’s smile was gentle, her cheeks flushed, as she slowly turned.

  Amiri gathered Iris’s hair… and fastened the ribbon in place.

  A black ribbon, exquisite in every way, harmonized with her flowing ash brown hair and emerald eyes.

  “I’ll wrap it around you,” she whispered,

  gently looping the long, elegant red scarf… before softening into a tender hug.

  “You have to keep it on, so you won’t get cold.”

  For a moment, time seemed to slow.

  Amiri pushed the door open, and a wave of heat slammed into his face.

  Thick smoke filled his lungs, choking him nearly to the point of collapse.

  The wardrobe in the corner lay shattered, the bookshelves toppled.

  The bed that had once been neatly made was reduced to a blackened frame.

  Burning scraps of blanket collapsed to the floor like falling tears.

  The faded crimson scarf lay in a heap beside the bed, its ends frayed, the fabric scorched and riddled with holes.

  Amiri bent down to pick it up, wrapping it slowly around his neck.

  The cloth, once soft, was now rough and brittle, yet every fiber still held the memories within.

  It embraced him, warm… as if Iris were still by his side.

  The girl’s tinkling laughter echoed… from far, far away.

  The sound chased the heat and smoke from his chest, and he began to breathe again.

  Not far away, his eyes caught a glossy black chip, strangely out of place. Unlike the wooden chips he usually used to play cards with Father, this one gleamed like volcanic glass, etched with the words Whitecastel 81433 and a signature completely unknown to him.

  Amiri stepped into the next room.

  The wooden door hung open… lifeless.

  Tiny sparks drifted through the air, while shards of broken glass littered the floor, trembling with the wind.

  Waves of heat rose around him, the acrid scent of burning flesh thick in the air, his heart pounding as if it might burst.

  Raindrops glimmered in the blood-red moonlight.

  Lightning split the sky, revealing a woman lying utterly still.

  “Mother!” Amiri cried, rushing forward, sinking to his knees, and gathering her in his arms.

  Her warmth lingered… but no breath came.

  The heart that had always beat for him was silent.

  “I’m sorry, Mother,” he sobbed.

  “I never wanted… this.”

  Amiri held her close, tighter than ever before.

  Tears, like melting crystals, fell from his eyes

  and trickled down the cheeks of his sleeping mother.

  The rain fell softly… a gentle murmur,

  yet he heard nothing.